


Loverman

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Adult Content, BDSM, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-04
Updated: 2005-06-04
Packaged: 2019-02-05 16:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: This is Krycek.  This is Krycek on aphrodisiacs.  Any questions?





	Loverman

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek

Rating: Adult for m/m interaction, sexual activity, bondage and discipline, language, and those are just the good points

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of 1013 Productions and no profit is being made from their use. Words and music for "Loverman" by Nick Cave. 

Warnings: Please read and heed. This is a very explicit story featuring bondage, ass slapping and S-E-X. If you are offended by such material please do not read this story, and if you do, don't write to me. If you're underage in your area, there's the door.

Status: New/Complete

Thanks: To HollyIlex for superb beta as always. Huge hugs to Alex. I owe you such a debt of gratitude. Without your insight and enthusiasm, this story would not be what it is. Thanks also go to Helen, Ursula and Gaby for sneak previewing, cheering and hugs.

Summary: This is Krycek. This is Krycek on aphrodisiacs. Any questions? 

Dedication: Written especially for my friend Aki. We had a chance conversation one day about drugged!Alex, one thing led to another, and here's the end result. I'm delighted to be able to give something back to someone who's been so generous with her time and talent. This one's for you! 

Author's Note: I wanted to write a story for Aki, but was having a hard time getting started. I happened to see the video for "Loverman" and was just absolutely blown away by it. It was the sexiest song I'd ever heard and it had Alex Krycek written all over it. You don't have to listen to the song to appreciate the story, but I definitely recommend it. 

 

 

Loverman

 

by Lorelei

 

 

_There's a devil waiting outside your door_

_(how much longer?)_

_There's a devil waiting outside your door_

_It is bucking and braying and pawing at the floor_

_And he's howling with pain and crawling up the walls_

_There's a devil waiting outside your door_

_He's weak with evil and broken by the world_

_He's shouting your name and he's asking for more_

_There's a devil waiting outside your door_

 

 

Mulder sat up in the dark, unsure for a moment whether he was asleep or dreaming. 

 

He jumped as something crashed against his door hard enough to shake it in its frame. He fumbled for the lamp, nearly knocking it off the end table. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

 

"Mulderrrr..."

 

His own name, echoing in the hallway. Not shouted so much as howled, the voice raw and desperate.

 

What the fuck?

 

He grabbed his gun from the coffee table and stood up, his heart pounding. The door shook again and a frantic scrabbling ensued as though someone were trying to claw right through it. 

 

"MULDER!"

 

A shriek this time, tinged with hysteria. Mulder stopped cold, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Even raw and broken and screaming loud enough to wake his most distant neighbor, there was no mistaking that voice.

 

Mulder edged toward the door. He cocked the gun, pointing it straight up as he reached for the doorknob, which was twisting and rattling violently.

 

He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing in anger. On the other side of that door was a rat bastard with a death wish. He took a deep breath and yanked the door open.

 

Krycek was on him in an instant, panting and wild, his rain-chilled lips smothering the curse that rose in Mulder's throat. Mulder stumbled backwards and Krycek followed, grinding against him, his hand grasping at Mulder's crotch. He smelled of leather and rain and sweat.

 

Mulder broke free and shoved him against the wall. Krycek fell against it with a howl of frustration. Mulder slammed the door and then leveled the weapon at Krycek, barely resisting the urge to smash his face in with it.

 

"Get the fuck off me!" he snarled. 

 

Krycek stood, silver raindrops weaving down black leather before falling to join the growing pool around his boots. He was soaked. Even his eyelashes were wet, standing out starkly against his pale skin. Mulder watched him warily. Krycek seemed to be unable to stand still. He kept moving forward even as his chest made contact with the barrel of the gun, his chest heaving with each ragged breath, his burning eyes fixed unwaveringly on Mulder.

 

Mulder shoved him again, harder this time.

 

"You touch me again and I'll put a bullet right between your eyes, you son of a bitch." 

 

Krycek moaned a little but moved back, biting his lip and wrapping his one arm around himself, hunching forward as if in pain. He shivered, his haunted eyes devouring the man who stood before him, his hair still sleep-tousled, his finger on the trigger of his service weapon. Mulder cursed and shoved the barrel of the gun under Krycek's chin. Green eyes opened wide.

 

"M-Mulder..."

 

"Shut up," Mulder hissed, his face inches from Krycek's. "I don't know what you're doing here, Krycek, but you're about two seconds away from leaving in a body bag."

 

Krycek caught his breath. Mulder found himself watching a single raindrop thread its way down Krycek's cheek. It rolled slowly over ashen skin until it reached the corner of his mouth.

 

That mouth....

 

Mulder cursed and ground the gun harder into Krycek's jaw. Krycek pressed closer to Mulder even as he grunted in pain. His eyes seemed to be eating up his face, almost glowing, lit from within by some mad unquenchable need.

 

His lips barely moved, the words breathed more than spoken.

 

"Fuck me."

 

Mulder's eyes widened and he stepped back. He didn't know what he had expected Krycek to say, but it sure as hell wasn't **that**.

 

"What?" he snapped, feeling his face grow hot.

 

Krycek moved forward, trying to close the gap between them. He was panting again, running his hand over his chest and belly, dipping down to his crotch, drawing Mulder's gaze there, to the hard cock straining the wet denim. Mulder took another step back, gripping the gun like a talisman. He gaped at Krycek. 

 

"Fuck me, Mulder," Krycek said, his voice dark and dangerous. "I need it."

 

Mulder felt his own cock stirring and resolutely ignored it. Maybe he was dreaming after all, he thought even as he kept the gun trained on Krycek. He was horny, that was all, and his subconscious had put together this fevered little offering for his viewing pleasure. Alex Krycek, soaked to the skin, standing in his living room, panting like a wanton slut and begging to be fucked. That was it. A dream. He'd wake up in a minute, wet and sticky, flushed with embarrassment like the teenaged boy he'd once been, sneaking down to the basement to wash his sheets in the middle of the night.

 

Krycek certainly looked like a wet dream come to life. His clothes molded to his long lean body, those red, swollen lips parted, his hand roaming over his flat belly and up to his hard nipples, pinching them through the nearly transparent white cotton. His desperate cock pressing painfully against his black jeans, the musky scent of arousal coming off him in waves. The way he constantly fidgeted, shaking, barely able to control his arousal.

 

Mulder glared at him. "No, thanks. But feel free to go fuck yourself."

 

Krycek tossed his head angrily. 

 

"You think I want to be here, Mulder?" he demanded, his eyes flashing. "I didn't ask for this! Just listen to me-"

 

"No, you listen to me, Krycek," Mulder bit out. "You actually think I'm going to fall for this little act of yours? I don't know what you're on, but -" 

 

"Neither do I," Krycek whispered darkly. 

 

He slipped his leather jacket off and let it fall to the floor. Trembling, he held out his right arm, his wounded eyes never moving from Mulder's face. Mulder saw the angry red puncture mark in the tender hollow of Krycek's elbow. His eyes drifted down to the rope burn around the slender wrist and he looked away, his jaw clenched. "The Smoking Man did it to me," Krycek continued, his voice quavering. "I don't know what it is, but...God...I n-need it, Mulder. I need to be fucked." He looked down, his throat working. "Please," he said, his face contorted with pain, the sound of himself begging almost more than he could bear.

 

"I'm not running a stud service, Krycek," Mulder said coldly.

 

Krycek growled, a sound of pure animal need. He grabbed a videotape from the table beside him.

 

"This what gets you off?" he demanded. 

 

He threw it against the wall, smashing it. He took another step forward, heedless of the gun leveled at his chest, forcing Mulder to retreat farther into the living room. "You don't need that. You've got the real thing right here. I'm begging for it, Mulder. Fuck me!"

 

Mulder's finger tightened on the trigger. "I told you to get away from me!"

 

Krycek didn't seem to hear. He rubbed himself shamelessly, his hand continuing its fluttering journey from nipples to belly to crotch and back again. 

 

"You want me, Mulder," he purred slyly, his husky voice like honey. "I know you do. You've always wanted me."

 

Mulder cursed and backhanded Krycek. Krycek stumbled and fell, catching himself awkwardly with his single hand. He looked up at Mulder. "That's it, Mulder," he said, his eyes glittering. "Hit me. It makes you hard when I bleed for you, doesn't it?"

 

Mulder gritted his teeth. It took everything he had not to pull the trigger.

 

"Even if I believe you've been given some sort of...aphrodisiac," he said through clenched teeth, "that doesn't make it my problem. You're a liar, a killer and a whore, Krycek. What makes you think I'd touch you?"

 

Krycek pulled himself up to his knees, resolutely staring Mulder down. He touched the corner of his mouth, letting his fingers trail along the slowly darkening bruise there. 

 

"Maybe because you touch me every chance you get," he husked.

 

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "You've still got one hand left, Krycek. Use it."

 

Mulder savored the brief flash of pain that crossed Krycek's face. Krycek looked down and whimpered. "I did but I...I can't anymore. It hurts too much." He blinked back tears and looked at Mulder pleadingly. "Fuck me, Mulder. Fuck me hard. Please."

 

Mulder turned his back, disgusted. "Get the hell out of here, Krycek. Before I change my mind and shoot you after all."

 

Krycek leaned forward and began crawling awkwardly toward Mulder. Mulder turned, his mouth dropping open, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Alex Krycek, wet and weeping, crawling to him and begging to be fucked.

 

Krycek looked up at Mulder, tears sparkling in his lashes, his eyes hollow and burning. He dragged himself along with his one hand, any pretense at dignity long gone. Mulder backed away until he felt the hard edge of his desk press into his back. He leveled the gun at Krycek, trying not to notice how his hand shook.

 

"Don't come any closer," he snarled. 

 

Krycek whimpered again and knelt a few feet away, his thighs spread wide, displaying the bulge his jeans barely kept restrained. 

 

"You're right, Mulder," he whispered. "I'm all those things you said. But you can punish me for it. This is your chance to make me pay for all the things I've done. Beat me. Hurt me. Just fuck me." He looked down, his hair obscuring his tortured eyes. "Please."

 

Mulder's cock throbbed at the thought of punishing Krycek. God, the thought of it...holding him down, fucking him hard and painful, taking every ounce of vengeance he was due...

 

Mulder tore himself away from his dark fantasy. He stared down at Krycek, his lip curled. "Look at yourself, Krycek. You're fucking pathetic."

 

Krycek moved a little closer, his boots scraping the floor as he crawled. He knelt again, swallowing hard as he looked up into Mulder's blazing eyes.

 

"Do you remember when we were partners?" he asked softly.

 

Mulder scowled. "That was a long time ago, Krycek. I fell for your act once. But you can't play me now like you did then."

 

An almost comical expression of hurt crossed Krycek's face. "It wasn't an act!"

 

Mulder blinked. The little son of a bitch was pouting!

 

"Are you trying to tell me you were a virgin, Krycek?" he sneered.

 

Krycek looked down. It was a moment before he spoke. 

 

"No," he said, so quietly that Mulder could barely hear him. "But you were the first one I got to choose."

 

Mulder leaned forward, the barrel of the gun pointing at Krycek's head. He was shaking badly now.

 

"Shut up!"

 

Krycek looked up again, his eyes wide, so much like they had been that night long ago. "Any way you want it, Mulder," he breathed. "I'll do anything. All those things I wouldn’t let you do then...you can do them now." He leaned forward eagerly. "Tie me up, Mulder," he said, his voice rough and urgent. "Bend me over and strap me raw. Make me scream. I deserve it. I'll take it. I'll take it all and I'll thank you for it."

 

Mulder's cock was hard and aching now, and he remembered the cheap motel room with scratchy bedsheets and the neon sign buzzing outside their window. Remembered Alex lying beside him, nervous as a new bride. God, the way he'd blushed when Mulder had playfully dangled the handcuffs from one finger and told him how beautiful he was! Mulder had been half-crazy with the need to claim Krycek, to capture him and explore every inch of him, to make him moan and cry out with every touch. But green eyes had dropped shyly, white teeth nibbling at that plump bottom lip, and Mulder's lust had turned to desire, slow and smoldering and gentle. He'd taken Alex into his arms, and those lips had parted under his, so timid and so sweet...

 

Mulder looked down at Krycek. The rat knelt there, looking up at him, somehow managing to look innocent and slutty at the same time. Mulder choked back bitter rage. The little bastard was playing him! Pushing all his buttons, manipulating him, willing to say or do anything to get what he wanted.

 

"Shut the fuck up!" Mulder shouted. He was gripping the pistol so hard his knuckles were white. "I'm sick of your bullshit, Krycek! Sick of you turning up like a bad fucking dream! You fuck with me, you fuck with my life, and then you show up here in the middle of the night and expect me to service you like some kind of rent-a-dick?"

 

Krycek trembled. "Mulder, please..."

 

"Just. Shut. Up." Mulder growled, his eyes flashing. "You think you'd like it, you little slut? You think I'd make it easy on you? Believe me, you wouldn't like what I'd do to you." 

 

Krycek's eyes rolled back and he gasped, his hips bucking. "Oh G-god, Mulder!" He hunched over, panting, his one hand clutching at himself. Mulder watched, astonished, as Krycek's face flushed with humiliation, his breathing loud and uneven as he tried to get himself under control.

 

God, the Rat had just come in his pants!

 

Mulder realized with something like wonder that it wasn't an act, that Krycek had been telling the truth when he said he'd been shot up with some kind of sex drug. Mulder's own cock was tenting the fabric of his boxers, so hard it hurt. He gritted his teeth. Damn it all, he was not going to give in to Krycek!

 

Mulder swallowed. "Forget it." 

 

Krycek knelt there, utterly still, his eyes searching Mulder's face. Mulder watched, speechless, as he began shuffling forward on his knees, stopping only when his forehead was pressing against the barrel of the gun.

 

"Then finish it," Krycek whispered brokenly. "Do it to me, Mulder. Please. I can’t take it anymore." He leaned into the gun, as if willing Mulder to shoot. He turned his eyes up to Mulder, his tears shining in the lamplight. "Have that much mercy on me, please."

 

Mulder's finger tensed on the trigger. For a moment he was tempted to end it, to finish the little rat once and for all. His stomach clenched and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. He looked into Krycek's eyes and was stunned to see something there besides that grasping, clawing need that had brought them both to this point.

 

It was trust.

 

Slowly, Mulder lowered the gun, his own harsh breathing loud in the sudden silence.

 

Krycek's face crumpled and he looked down. He sounded like he was crying.

 

Mulder's gun hand dropped to his side. "Krycek..."

 

Krycek looked up, his face wet with tears. "I want you, Mulder."

 

Mulder shook his head. "That's not you talking, Krycek. It's the drugs."

 

Krycek made a sound that was part despair, part frustration. "No!" he shouted. "You don't understand. It IS me. I just c-can't control it." He ran his hand through his hair, searching for the words that would get through to Mulder. "Why do you think the Smoking Man did this to me and then turned me loose?" he continued, his voice rising. "Because he knew what I'd do! He knew I'd come straight to you!"

 

Mulder stared at him. "Why?"

 

Krycek looked away. "To teach me a lesson," he whispered. "To make me crawl. To make me beg at your feet like a dirty little whore." He hid his face, not wanting to see the look in Mulder's eyes. "It's always been you, Mulder."

 

Mulder stood dumbstruck. He watched as Krycek slowly rose to his feet, graceful even though his spirit was broken. He looked at Mulder, anguished. 

 

"You won't fuck me and you won't shoot me," he moaned, his hand desperately scrabbling at his crotch. His face contorted with pain. "Oh God what am I...I can't..."

 

Mulder stepped forward, searching that beautiful agonized face.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

 

Krycek gave him a look of disbelief.

 

"Oh, God!" he shouted, his hand clutching at Mulder's shirt. "Now, Mulder, please!" 

 

Mulder glanced toward the bedroom. Krycek was gone before he could open his mouth to speak.

 

***

 

_There's a devil crawling along your floor_

_(how much longer?)_

_There's a devil crawling along your floor_

_With a trembling heart he's coming through your door_

_With his straining sex in his jumping paw_

_There's a devil crawling along your floor_

_And he's old and he's stupid and he's hungry and he's sore_

_And he's lame and he's blind and he's dirty and he's poor_

_Give him more give him more give him more give him more_

_There's a devil crawling along your floor_

 

Mulder stood in the doorway. Krycek was already naked and on the bed, his ass in the air. He was shaking and moaning, unable to hold still.

 

"Mulder!" he wailed. "Pleaaaase..."

 

Mulder moved to the side of the bed, quickly stripping off his own clothes. Krycek turned his face toward him, his eyes huge and dark with need.

 

"Are you going to tie me?" he whispered. 

 

Mulder nodded. 

 

"Damn right I am."

 

He considered returning to the living room for his handcuffs but decided neckties would be sufficient, especially in light of the raw rope burn on Krycek's wrist. Mulder went to the closet and returned with a handful of ties, making sure to select the ones he liked the least. He had a feeling that once he and Krycek were done, there would be little chance of salvaging them.

 

"This what you wanted, Krycek?" Mulder asked as he knotted the necktie around Krycek's wrist. "Because believe me, you're going to get it."

 

Krycek whimpered.

 

Mulder quickly secured Krycek's real and prosthetic hands to the headboard, being sure not to put too much pressure on the juncture of Krycek's left shoulder and the artificial limb. Krycek mewled and lowered his hips, trying to hump the mattress, heedless of his raw cock. 

 

"Stop that!" Mulder ordered. God, the way the Rat quivered at the sound of his voice! Every word seemed to push him to even more dizzying heights of arousal. 

 

Trembling, Krycek struggled back to his knees, panting through his open mouth. "M-Mulder-" 

 

"Up! I want it nice and high, slut!" Mulder barked. He slapped Krycek's ass hard.

 

Krycek screamed and shot explosively. He clung to the headboard and panted. Mulder watched in amazement as Krycek's cock immediately stiffened again, hard and aching. A drop of precum oozed from the tip. Krycek watched too, his eyes wide with horror.

 

"Oh, God!" Krycek screamed, his body wracked with tremors. "Mulder PLEASE!" He hung his head and sobbed.

 

"All right, Krycek," Mulder said quietly. "I'm going to give you what you need."

 

"Oh God, thank you, Mulder, thank you," Krycek babbled. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears sliding down his cheeks.

 

Mulder grabbed Krycek's hips, waiting while he shuddered through another wrenching orgasm, and guided him into position. Head down, ass up and out, thighs spread wide. He stroked his cock, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him. It really was his wet dream. Krycek, naked, ass raised high in the air, sobbing and pleading for Mulder's cock. Mulder grinned and climbed onto the bed, reaching over Krycek to the nightstand. He tore open the condom packet with his teeth (discreetly checking the expiration date) and rolled it on. His cock was diamond hard and weeping, practically straining to get at the bounty before it. 

 

Mulder knelt there for a moment, mesmerized by the little muscles twitching under the smooth skin of Krycek's inner thighs, his balls hanging heavy and swollen between them. He stroked Krycek's back gently, as if taming a wild colt. Krycek's skin was smooth and hot to the touch, almost burning. Krycek shuddered and began babbling again, a litany of pleas and promises, begging for release. Mulder lubed his fingers and spread Krycek's cheeks, dipping two fingers in. Oh God, so hot. So wanting. Krycek shrieked and came again, his muscles bunching and rolling. Mulder watched, fascinated, twisting his fingers and delving deeper, just brushing against Krycek's prostate.

 

Krycek howled and came yet again, fighting the restraints even as they comforted him. He hung there dazed, gulping air, his bottom lip bloody where he had bitten it.

 

Mulder leaned forward. "Krycek, you've pissed my neighbors off enough for one night. I'm going to have to gag you if you can't be quiet."

 

Krycek nodded, pressing his face against the mattress. "S-sorry." He bucked his hips again, trying to hump thin air. "Mulder pleeeeeeeeeease..."

 

Mulder considered slapping his ass again but Krycek had already come so many times he was near collapse. He wanted him conscious for at least a little longer. He positioned the tip of his cock at Krycek's opening and coated both liberally with lube.

 

"Gonna fuck you now," Mulder breathed. "Just stay still and take it."

 

"Yes, yes," Krycek panted. "Fuck me. Do it hard. Please."

 

Mulder thrust into Krycek in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt. He began fucking Krycek, long hard strokes, driving him into the mattress. Krycek screamed with every thrust, pushing his ass up for more. Mulder was tempted to follow through on his threat to gag him, but God, the sounds he made!

 

Fuck the neighbors. 

 

"Slut," Mulder growled, giving in to the desire to leave another handprint on that smooth pale skin. "Take it, fucking little slut."

 

"Yes," Krycek gasped, his mouth open, sweat glistening on his bare skin. "God! More...please...more!"

 

Mulder redoubled his efforts, slamming into Krycek. Krycek howled, his one hand clawing at the headboard, and Mulder knew tying him was the most sensible thing he'd done all night. Krycek came again and again, his thighs and belly spattered with semen, his cries breathless and hoarse. Mulder's sweat dripped onto that graceful naked back as he pounded into him, his hands leaving marks on Krycek's hips, Krycek sighing and writhing and begging beneath him. 

 

It was glorious.

 

Mulder felt his orgasm building and deliberately slowed his pace, ignoring Krycek's plaintive whine. After a moment he stopped completely and pulled out. Krycek cried out at the loss of friction.

 

"Wh...what are you doing, Mulder?" he whimpered. He looked over his shoulder, sex-stupid and struggling to focus. 

 

Mulder stared down at him, panting. His cock ached and yearned to plunge back into that sweet intoxicating heat but his profiler's mind wouldn't rest. He's at your mercy, he told himself. Helpless...stripped of all his defenses. When are you going to have another chance like this?

 

He needed answers. He needed that even more than he needed to come.

 

He leaned forward, covering Krycek's body with his as Krycek squirmed under him, his back pressed against Mulder's chest, hot and slick with sweat. 

 

"Did you kill my father, Krycek?" Mulder asked softly.

 

Krycek stiffened. Mulder felt him draw a deep, ragged breath.

 

"Oh, no," Krycek begged, his voice edged with panic. "No, Mulder, please don't, don't do this-"

 

"Did you?" Mulder demanded. "Tell me the truth or I swear to God, I'll get up and leave you here."

 

Krycek's breath quickened. "No, please!" he begged. "I'll tell you!"

 

Mulder waited. 

 

Krycek sagged in his bonds and let out a sound of pure desolation. "Yes," he whispered. "Spender made me choose. It was you or your father." He rested his cheek on the mattress. "I chose him."

 

Mulder was stunned. He stared at Krycek for a long while before speaking again.

 

"Do you know where my sister is?"

 

Krycek moaned. He struggled against his bonds, but Mulder had tied him well. Mulder frowned and brought his hand down sharply on Krycek's ass, making sure it was hard enough to be a punishment and not a reward. Krycek cried out in pain and surprise. He shook and sobbed as another orgasm wracked him.

 

"Pleeeeeeeeease..." he whined.

 

Mulder raised his hand again. "Answer me."

 

Krycek stopped struggling and lay still, his back rising and falling against Mulder's chest with every gulping breath. He swallowed hard. "No," he said, so quietly and so simply that Mulder knew it was the truth. "Spender makes sure I can't get near that kind of information. I...I've tried, Mulder. I swear."

 

Krycek tried to move back onto Mulder's cock but Mulder gripped him hard, holding him still. Krycek screamed with frustration.

 

"Damn you, Mulder! Move!"

 

"Not until I get what **I** want," Mulder said, tracing one finger along the reddened curve of Krycek's buttock. "Scully's sister, Krycek. You shot her, didn't you?"

 

Krycek shuddered. "N-no," he said quickly. "It was Cardinale."

 

Mulder considered this. "Were you there?" he asked, almost gently.

 

Krycek blinked. The only sound was the sound of their breathing. After a moment he swallowed hard and said, "Yes." Mulder sat up on his heels, his cock still stiff and wanting. Krycek lay still, ready for whatever Mulder wanted to give him. 

 

Mulder sat silently, lost in his own thoughts.

 

"Mulder?" Krycek said softly. "I'm sorry. I swear to God I'm sorry. Beat me if you want. Just please don't stop."

 

Mulder shook himself out of his reverie and looked at Krycek, frowning. "Shut up, Krycek." He emphasized the command with another ringing slap to Krycek's ass. Krycek groaned and came instantly. 

 

Mulder watched as his muscles spasmed and his hand opened and closed, heard his muffled cries as he pushed his face into the mattress. He brought his hand down on Krycek's ass again and stared fascinated at his own scarlet handprint glowing on that creamy white skin. Krycek cried out and came yet again, his cock spurting and then instantly leaping up, stiff and hard against his belly. Mulder slapped his ass again, the left cheek this time, and Krycek yelped even as he thrust his ass up for more.

 

"You like that?" Mulder growled, smacking Krycek's ass harder. "You love it, don't you, little slut?"

 

Krycek moaned, panting through his open mouth. "Yes! L-love it..." 

 

"You deserve it, too, don't you?" Mulder demanded. "Fucking little whore. You know you've got this coming." 

 

Another slap. 

 

Krycek screamed into the mattress. He turned his head to the side, his sweat-soaked hair plastered to his forehead.

 

"Yes, Mulder!" he gasped. "P-punish me...make it hurt..."

 

Mulder slapped his ass twice more, hard enough to push him forward into the mattress. Krycek screamed, his knees buckling as he came. Mulder brought his hand down hard on one reddened cheek.

 

"Up!" he shouted. "Get that ass back up right now or I'll get my belt." He leaned over, his mouth close to Krycek's ear, his voice low and dangerous, "And I promise you, you will NOT like it."

 

Krycek made a mewling noise in the back of his throat. Mulder felt him shiver and exulted in it, his cock raging, his blood pounding, all for this beautiful wild thing crouching between his thighs, pushing his ass up like an offering, ready for more pain, more unendurable pleasure, more of whatever Mulder wanted to give him.

 

He brought his hand down across Krycek's ass again, delighting in the crisp sound it made. Krycek bucked and moaned, thrusting his ass out shamelessly, gasping as Mulder slapped it hard again. Mulder increased the speed and strength of the blows, lost in watching Krycek's ass turn deep crimson, every gasp, every wail going straight to his aching cock. He groaned with the effort of holding back. Just a little longer... 

 

"Mulder," Krycek whimpered, trying again to push back onto Mulder's cock. "Need you inside me...please..."

 

Mulder ran his hands over Krycek's red, swollen ass, tracing the marks he'd made, feeling the heat from Krycek's punished skin seeping through his fingers. He squeezed one round buttock, hearing Krycek hiss and groan.

 

"You don't deserve my cock, Krycek," Mulder said, his voice silky and dark. "Do you?"

 

Krycek took a ragged breath. "N-no," he whispered. He turned his face to the side and Mulder saw a single tear slip free and wend its way down Krycek's flushed cheek.

 

"That's right," Mulder answered, his long fingers still kneading, touching, making Krycek catch his breath as they explored his hypersensitive skin. "You don't. So you'll have to pay for it, won't you, little slut?"

 

"Y-yes, Mulder," Krycek said, so softly Mulder could barely hear him. His hand clenched above the necktie bond and he squeezed his eyes shut, black lashes fanning over his flushed cheek. Slowly, shaking, he pushed his ass farther out, spreading his thighs wider, keeping no part of himself hidden, his long graceful back bent in surrender. 

 

Mulder grinned. He began spanking Krycek in earnest, alternating the strength and placement of the blows, savoring every shudder and sob he wrung from Krycek's exhausted body. Krycek's orgasms were coming a little more slowly, but were still astonishing in strength and number. His ass was glowing deep red now, and Mulder turned his attention to the tender tops of his thighs, deepening their color to match.

 

"Mulder, please," Krycek begged through his tears. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

 

"Soon," Mulder said softly. He continued spanking Krycek until he was sobbing and hiccupping, the sheet under his cheek wet with tears. Mulder glanced down at his hand and saw it was red and swollen. He would have to ice it later. He looked down at Krycek, stroked his hair. "What do you say?" he asked, his voice oddly gentle.

 

"Th-thank you, Mulder," Krycek choked. His chest hitched and he sniffled into the mattress.

 

Mulder almost groaned aloud at the sight of him. God, such sweet submission. Mulder's cock hurt with the need to make that submission complete, his muscles ached from the sheer effort it took not to tear Krycek apart in a haze of animal lust. Wanting, hurting, possessing....

 

Fuck. 

 

He curled his fist into Krycek's hair and leaned over him, sinking his teeth into the back of his neck as he thrust into him roughly. Mulder tasted blood and growled, letting himself go, his fingers digging into Krycek's hips as he slammed into him, slapping his ass with every thrust. Krycek howled and babbled and came as Mulder set a punishing rhythm, thrusting faster and faster, finally coming so hard his ears rang. He slumped over Krycek, breathing hard.

 

He lay like that as the last of his climax ebbed away, his cheek resting between Krycek's shoulderblades, one hand carding through Krycek's glossy black hair. At last, he pulled himself up. Krycek lay motionless, his muscles slack. Mulder reached down and lifted Krycek's chin.

 

"Hey, Krycek." He slapped Krycek's cheek gently. "You in there?"

 

No response. Krycek was passed out cold.

 

Mulder sighed and got up, returning with a warm washcloth. He removed Krycek's restraints and manhandled him onto his back. He cleaned them both up as best he could, passing the cloth gingerly over Krycek's abraded cock, soft at last in its nest of dark curls. He grimaced as he looked down at the bedsheets. Krycek had made one hell of a mess. Grumbling, he threw a towel over the worst of it, then threw Krycek over that. Let him sleep on the wet spot.

 

Mulder awoke the next morning with a groan. Someone was knocking at his door again. He raised his head blearily and glanced beside him. Krycek lay snoring softly, right where Mulder had left him. Mulder swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up, grabbing his boxers off the floor. He stepped into them and padded barefoot to the door, pulling his T-shirt over his head as he went.

 

The boy in the red jacket seemed nonplussed by Mulder's state of undress.

 

"Package for you, Mr. Mulder," he said cheerfully. "Just sign here, please."

 

Mulder took the clipboard and scrawled his name on the form. The boy handed him a package wrapped in brown paper, surprisingly heavy for its size. Mulder's wallet lay on the table beside the door. He reached for it and pulled out a five dollar bill.

 

"Thank you, sir. You have a nice day now."

 

Mulder closed the door and looked at the package with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He hadn't been expecting a delivery. He briefly wondered if it might be a mail bomb, then decided what the hell. If someone wanted to get to him, there were far easier ways to do it. 

 

He placed it on his desk, feeling in the drawer for a letter opener. He slid it under the flaps at either end of the package and the brown paper fell away, revealing a burnished wooden box. Slowly, Mulder raised the lid. A sheet of cream notepaper, old-fashioned and heavy, lay folded inside. Mulder picked it up, his brow furrowing as he saw what lay beneath it. He unfolded the paper and read.

 

My dear Fox-

 

I hope this small gift brings you many hours of enjoyment.

 

-C.G.B. Spender

 

Mulder crumpled the note and turned back to the box. He ran his finger over the small glass vials. There were a dozen of them, each one filled with a faintly rose-colored liquid. There were a dozen syringes as well, each one sealed in a sterile packet. He hesitated a moment, hefting the box in his hands, hearing the faintly musical clink of the vials inside. 

 

He heard a noise behind him and turned. Krycek stood in the bedroom doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He saw the box in Mulder's hands and his eyes widened. 

 

Mulder grinned. 

 

Krycek whimpered.

 

 

_L is for LOVE, baby_

_O is for O yes I do_

_V is for VIRTUE, so I ain't gonna hurt you_

_E is for EVEN if you want me to_

_R is for RENDER unto me, baby_

_M is for that which is MINE_

_A is for ANY old how, darlin_

_N is for ANY old time_

 

 

end

 

 

Loverman

 

There's a devil waiting outside your door

(how much longer?)

There's a devil waiting outside your door

It is bucking and braying and pawing at the floor

And he's howling with pain and crawling up the walls

There's a devil waiting outside your door

He's weak with evil and broken by the world

He's shouting your name and he's asking for more

There's a devil waiting outside your door

 

Loverman

Since the world began

Forever, Amen til the end of time

Take off that dress

I'm coming down

I'm your Loverman

Cause I am what I am what I am what I am

 

L is for LOVE, baby

O is for ONLY you that I do

V is for loving VIRTUALLY everything about you

E is for loving almost EVERYTHING that you do

R is for RAPE me

M is for MURDER me

A is for ANSWERING all of my prayers

N is for KNOWING your Loverman's going to

be the answer to all of yours

 

Loverman! Til the bitter end

While empires burn down

Forever and ever and ever Amen

I'm your Loverman

So help me, baby

So help me

Cause I am what I am what I am what I am

I'll be your Loverman!

 

There's a devil crawling along your floor

(how much longer?)

There's a devil crawling along your floor

With a trembling heart he's coming through your door

With his straining sex in his jumping paw

There's a devil crawling along your floor

And he's old and he's stupid and he's hungry and he's sore

And he's lame and he's blind and he's dirty and he's poor

Give him more give him more give him more give him more

There's a devil crawling along your floor

 

Loverman! Here I stand

Forever, Amen

Cause I am what I am what I am what I am

Forgive me, baby

My hands are tied

And I got no choice, no I got no choice at all

 

I'll say it again

L is for LOVE, baby

O is for O yes I do

V is for VIRTUE, so I ain't gonna hurt you

E is for EVEN if you want me to

R is for RENDER unto me, baby

M is for that which is MINE

A is for ANY old how, darlin

N is for ANY old time

 

-words and music by Nick Cave


End file.
